


The Moral Cleansing of Ms. Grey

by NinjaFairy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Brief Smut, Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde theme, F/M, Time Turner, Writing Prompt, tomione - Freeform, volmione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 17:51:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14337849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NinjaFairy/pseuds/NinjaFairy
Summary: Everyone has an Id. It's basic human psychology.[Tomione. Writing prompt. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde theme.]





	The Moral Cleansing of Ms. Grey

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SilverCherie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverCherie/gifts).



**A/N:**  Another writing prompt from Tumblr that I liked enough to post. I wanted to write more to this, but it's already over 2k and I'm a slow-ass writer. It's pretty much a super condensed Tomione time turner fic with a huge twist. Probably filled with typos.

**Prompt:**   _gray-jedi-scavenger-rey asked: Dr. Jekyll and tomione au!_

* * *

There was chaos all around.

The greenhouses were burning, buildings were crumbling, bodies were dropping. She could smell the sulfurous fumes of charred hair and skin and it made her double-over. Bile splattered over the toes of her trainers. She wiped away the leftover bile and snot with the sleeve of her shirt. Her fist grasped her shirt over her chest and she paused.

_No_. She wasn't where she needed to be yet. And so, she trudged on.

Hogsmeade. She needed to get to Hogsmeade first.

* * *

As she made her way through the dark, damp tunnel that led to Honeydukes, she briefly thought of topics she'd learned about human psychology.

A serious flaw in human nature was probably to blame for all of this.

Voldemort didn't kill Harry Potter – human nature's darker desires did.

* * *

Once she knew that the coast was clear, she disillusioned herself, and left Honeydukes. Most of the fighting was going on at Hogwarts, so Hogsmeade was eerily quiet.

As Hermione pulled out the time turner from her shirt and spun the dial, she thought in the back of her mind that, perhaps, it was  _too_  quiet.

She didn't get a chance to ponder on it more, because a violent force pulled at her navel and she was gone.

* * *

When Hermione finally came to, all she could feel was the pain and the nausea and the regret and the dry grass underneath her.

She slowly sat up and a warm breeze greeted her face. It hurt to move – it hurt to  _think_.

Hermione gave herself enough time to adjust to her surroundings before she started undressing herself in the field. After she shoved her dirty, destroyed clothes into her bag, she pulled a modest, pale blue dress out. She quickly healed her wounds, and cleaned her skin and hair before putting the dress on.

Then, Hermione pulled out a few pieces of paper from her magical purse, to make sure the forged documents were correct. Once she saw everything was in order, she quickly shoved everything back in her beaded bag – time turner included, and apparated with a loud crack.

* * *

It was easy registering as a new student at Hogwarts. Far easier than it should have been, if she were being honest. It probably had something to do with the time period.

People seemed to be far less concerned with paperwork in the 1940s.

If Hermione were to continue being honest, the most difficult thing about the 1940s was copying the popular hairstyles of the other girls her age. She was thankful to have made a couple of friends in Gryffindor who were more than happy to help her. The girls were a bit chatty and irritating first thing in the morning, but they served their purpose, she supposed.

They accepted Hermione Grey with open arms.

* * *

The first time she saw him, she choked on her pumpkin juice. Ginny had told her that he was handsome, but she'd never really thought about it before. It was difficult to consider Voldemort being a teenage boy once, but the proof was right across from her in the Great Hall as he leisurely ate his eggs while reading a book.

"Ahh, look, girls. Looks like Hermione finally caught sight of you-know-who," Anna said with a sly grin, and took a bite of her toast. The other 6th year Gryffindor girls giggled. The only reason Hermione let out an unladylike snort was solely because of Anna's unintentional irony.

She didn't even need anyone to point him out for her – she just  _knew_.

Once she got her coughing fit under control, she began to think.

* * *

Hermione had come up with a plan. The plan involved potions and a lot of trial and error. A lot of gathering ingredients in the Black Forest in the cover of the night.  _Illegal things._

She looked past the little hiccups to view the bigger picture. ' _The bigger picture_ ' being how to stop Tom Marvolo Riddle from destroying everything in the world…and from destroying himself.

Morality was an easy thing to sacrifice when it came to saving lives. It was simply choosing the lesser of two evils. And Hermione knew, that if you put anything next to Tom Riddle, the other thing would be the 'lesser of two evils' option.

* * *

Two months had gone by and she'd managed to remain underneath the radar. She didn't raise her hand in class at every single question like she normally would have – she didn't raise her hand at all. Sometimes, a professor would randomly call on a student and they would pick  _her_  and that was the  _only_  time she'd speak in class.

After the newness of her arrival at the beginning of the school year wore off, everyone considered Hermione utterly average. Nothing special. Nothing extraordinary. Boring.

Hermione's lips curled into a small smile as she thought about how that is exactly what she wanted. She made sure her appearance was plain. Her clothes were the same style as the other girls'. Her hair was done the same as theirs. She blended into the background perfectly. Ultimate conformity.

No one ever noticed her.

* * *

Except, one day, someone  _did_ notice her.

And, of course, it was the one person she wanted zero attention from.

Anna nudged Hermione's ribs. "You've got an admirer," she whispered.

"What?" Hermione frowned in confusion, and followed her line of sight across the study hall. Her heart stalled when she saw Riddle's dark eyes on her. She dropped her eyes back down to her parchment, and continued writing. "I highly doubt that."

"He's been staring at you the entire time. You must be joking," she whispered incredulously.

Hermione shifted her body away from Anna and Tom's line of sight. "Even if I wasn't; I'm not interested."

"But- "

"Drop it, Anna. I'm working, as you should be."

Anna dropped the conversation, but Hermione could feel that Riddle hadn't dropped his eyes from her.

* * *

The next day was the first day she'd ever seen him stay in the library longer than to just check out a book. He made himself comfortable in a chair a few tables away from hers.

Hermione did her best to make him unaware that she'd noticed him looking at her again.

* * *

The potion was coming along nicely, but she wasn't sure if it was a success. It was something new she'd created. There was no way to find out if it worked unless it was tested and she had no one to test it on.

Well…she could always slip it into someone's drink during supper, but that would be  _unethical._  She could also mess up the timeline worse than she'd already had if her potion accidentally killed someone.

As she bottled the potion into several small phials, Hermione considered testing the potion on herself. She just…wasn't sure if it would actually  _work_. The purpose of the potion was to separate the darker urges of human nature – their Id – so that only their good part was left. Sort of like a…moral cleansing.

Yes. That's what she'd call it. A moral cleansing.

And how could a person like  _her_ benefit from a potion such as this? She didn't  _have_  a darker side to separate, so  _of course_  it wouldn't work on her.

She'd have to consider another way to test it before administering it to the person it was intended for. She still had a few months. She still had time to decide.

* * *

"Good morning, Ms. Grey."

Hermione jumped in her seat, and stared at Riddle sitting in the seat next to hers. "Anna sits there."

He smiled, and started pulling his supplies out. "Oh, Ms. Longbottom offered to switch seats with me today. I hope that isn't an inconvenience."

"It kind of is, actually," she replied bluntly.

His smile turned into a cold grin as he leaned in close and whispered against her ear, "That's perfect, because I'd love to be an  _inconvenience_  to you."

Hermione sucked in air, and stared ahead for the rest of class.

She continued staring ahead, even when his hand brushed up against her thigh more than once.

* * *

Tom played with a lock of her hair while she was working on her Arithmancy homework in the library. Her heart was racing at his closeness. This would be much easier if he looked like the soulless version of himself.

"Go away, Riddle," she snapped.

"And why would I do something like that?"

"I don't know. Why would you choose to spend your free time with someone like me?" she asked in a bored tone.

He paused for quite a while before he finally whispered, "Tell me where you go at night."

She shooed his hand away from her hair and replied, "I'll tell you where I go at night once you tell me why  _you_  have a restricted sections book in your bag."

Tom's nostrils flared and he pulled the flap of his bag over the title of  _Magick Moste Evile_.

Tom kept his mouth shut tight.

So did she.

* * *

Time was running out.

One little sip wouldn't hurt, would it?

Trial and error.

* * *

A few weeks later, neither of them could keep their mouths shut.

Tom had pulled the pins out of her hair, and was snogging her senseless behind a staircase. Hermione yanked on his hair when his hands strayed to parts of her body they really oughtn't to. He moaned.

His lips moved to her neck. "Tell me, Grey."

"No."

Tom bit down on her neck and her scream was muffled by his palm. He licked the wound as his other hand slid up the inside of her thigh. "Try again."

Hermione felt rage twist in her chest and she clamped down on his palm until she tasted copper. He screamed, pulled away from her, and stared at her in shock.

She pointed her wand at him, and clicked her tongue at him in disapproval. "Now, now, Riddle. When a lady tells you 'no', it means 'no'."

Tom straightened, and observed her curiously. "Your eyes are… _different_ ," he said.

A slow grin spread over Hermione's face. His blood stained her teeth pink.

* * *

One sip turned into two. Two into three. Three into seven.

This was the definition of addiction.

Instant gratification.

Darker desires.

She thought she'd be immune. She thought she didn't have a darker side. She thought she wasn't morally corrupt.

How wrong she was.

Everyone had an Id.

* * *

Tom Riddle fed that addiction to instant gratification. He fed it in so many ways and he fed it  _so well_. She wanted more and more and more and she would take and take and take.

There was no guilt involved in the taking and that's when she knew she was lost.

There was no more 'lesser of the two evils'.

If anything, Tom was the lesser of the two evils now.

* * *

Hermione knew she was the greater of the two evils as Tom slammed into her against the lavatory wall and she  _enjoyed_  it. She ran her fingers through his hair, and looked at the sight behind him. She bit down on his shoulder, and cried out when she came undone. His hips snapped frantically against her and Hermione kissed him as he rode out his orgasm.

She still felt high, but she wasn't sure which was the cause: the sex, her potion, or their recently made horcrux.

Hermione grinned into Tom's lips when she felt him getting hard again, and started rolling her hips against him. He groaned, and moved with her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and nestled her chin on his shoulder to gaze at the body of Myrtle Warren on the floor behind him.

Hermione sighed when Tom's hands found her breasts.

She was willing to bet the high was from the horcrux.

* * *

A pair of red eyes watched as Hermione spun a time turner in front of Honeydukes. Then, a pale, spider-like hand closed over their shoulder like silk from their hidden spot by The Three Broomsticks.

"I'd almost forgotten what you used to look like," a sibilant voice spoke.

An equally pale hand reached up to cover Voldemort's in an almost affectionate manner.

Hermione Grey smiled. "Me, too."


End file.
